


give you more than touches and kisses

by sneupdogg



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, explicit Ben Winston hate, implied Ben Winston hate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-26 14:06:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2654771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sneupdogg/pseuds/sneupdogg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We asked twenty strangers to kiss for the first time..." Harry and Zayn meet at the "First Kiss" video. </p><p>They kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	give you more than touches and kisses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dutty (vodka)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vodka/gifts).



> written for Kris cuz i thnk she's bomb 
> 
> i've never been to new york  
> idk why i didn't set this in la  
> ultimately, this is very silly I JUST NEEDED THIS AND MAYBE YOU NEED IT TOO IDK

When Harry moved to New York City, he didn’t expect his dream to fall into his lap. He was prepared to work hard for it whether that was to clean dog kennels just to make rent for his ridiculously overpriced studio apartment, or give his agent a bit of a suck. Ben wasn’t the best indie artist agent in the world, actually he always managed to muck up everything, but he was hot and most importantly, had connections. It was Ben’s idea to try New York first, not Los Angeles like every other artist trying to make it in the industry. Ben replied along the lines of, you should be happy with what you’ve got. Which isn’t much because of Harry’s choice in agents and living arrangements. 

The point is Harry was determined not to fly back home without even making it six months on his own. 

What he didn’t expect was his first real job offer to request his presence for an up and coming video experiment. The details were shoddy—never really offering much information other than to dress how he would on a daily basis and to come prepared to meet fellow rising models and artists in the business. Harry cringed at the idea of coming to a business meeting in his normal clothes. Not that he’s insecure in his fashion sense, but the last time he did that for an interview in SPIN wearing three day old hair and a wrinkled button up, they commented that he looked more like a someone looking for room and board in a subway station. The reviews on his music were slightly better thankfully. 

Ben advised him to tweet something nasty about it for publicity. Harry simply recycled his copy of SPIN that month and contemplated the idea of purchasing an ironing board. 

Harry crouched to pull a water bottle out of his fridge, careful not to knock his head into the cabinets above, and gazed at the sunset’s reflection off the opposite apartment building windows. 

Maybe this could be his big break and he could leave this behind him. 

 

Harry woke up the next morning and robotically took a shower, brushed his teeth, slipped into his jeans, glanced in his empty fridge, and then left for work. 

He didn’t hate New York City. It just didn’t fit with him as well as he thought it would when he took a class trip back in primary school. The food is good, if you can afford it. The first week he moved, he went to the Empire State building not realizing you had to pay to go up there. He waited two hours, watched the corporate buildings stay lit up for another hour, and then went home hungry. He’s never slept so much in a city that never sleeps. It just wasn’t as glamorous as Harry expected. 

He loved the people though. The random people on the subway who would tell him about his day or the people at the market who would ask him if he grew the fruit himself when he was picking out bananas and peaches dressed in plaid with a wide brim hat. He made friends easily, but like, one-night friends that he would hang out with at a party and move onto a different set at the next one.

Harry made it relatively unscathed through the 8 am rush on the subway and took a glance at the street names. He still hasn’t gotten the hang of needing to know street names and his Sex and the City reruns did not prepare him nearly enough to know where everything was. 

Harry made it to the agency’s building with five minutes to spare. His sheer shirt stuck a little to his back and his previously wet hair curled around his shoulders. He’s grown out of being insecure in his body and the way he looks. But for the last six months, he’s stared at himself through mirror reflecting buildings as businesswoman and construction workers weaved around him, and he’s finally known what it’s like to doubt yourself. 

He breathed in deep and opened the door, couldn’t help feeling like this was the last time he would do this. The cool air blasted through his hair and saw a few people sitting in the waiting area with a receptionist. Everyone looked rather bored.

Harry was about two seconds in the door before he tripped on the doorjamb. In what was sure to be a disaster, his knees already colliding together painfully, a hand gripped around his waist quickly and righted him up.

Harry blew out a sigh of relief and pasted a grateful smile on. He looked up and saw a man that had single-handedly won over his heart and his dick in the span of two seconds. 

His dashing hero grinned and slid his hand down his waist to his hips in what was probably supposed to be soothing but just made his dick twitch. “You good there, mate?”

Oh god, his voice. Harry was going to come in his jeans probably. His savior was wearing a dark maroon jumper with his hair tied back into a ponytail. A beard framed a ridiculously sharp jaw under even sharper cheekbones. Harry was very open to all religions but he’s pretty sure he’s standing in front of an actual angel. 

Harry tried to put on the charm he was known for back home, but mostly just tried not to fall to his knees because the mystery man’s arm was still wrapped around him and he was so warm. Harry nodded, “I’m fantastic. Thanks.”

Stranger removed his hand and took a step back, and Harry instantly felt less steady. He spoke deep and languid, not like Harry’s morbidly slow voice, but rich and velvety, his lips barely wrapping around some syllables. 

Stranger kept a soft smile on his face and Harry felt like his body was stuck in that tripping dimension where his stomach fell and sweat broke out on the back of his neck. Harry felt so out of his element, palms sweaty arms spaghetti. 

Harry opened his mouth, probably to make an ass out of himself but Stranger beat him to it. “Saw you stand outside the building for a minute. Be honest with myself, didn’t know if you were ever gonna step in.” He watched Harry’s face, intensely staring at Harry’s eyebrows knitting together and the bow of his lips. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Glad you did. Otherwise we wouldn’t have had that moment.”

Harry took a step of his back towards the sitting area, praying no sweat stains were visible through his shirt. Something about the guy looking at him from under his long lashes made his skin feel hot and itchy like it wasn’t a chilly reception area or sixty degrees outside. 

Harry tried laughing in a way that made his face look flirty and pleasant, but a loud squawking noise came out his mouth. He said, “Was that what that was? A moment?”

Stranger itched the side of his jaw and smirked out of the side of his mouth. “Our moment.”

Harry was back to feeling heated and clammy. He thought it was now time to properly introduce himself. “M’Harry.”

“Zayn Malik!”

Stranger’s eyebrows shot up and he smiled as he backed away to a door the receptionist was holding a door open. Harry had no trouble hearing Zayn’s next words. 

“Nice meeting you Harry.”

And then Harry’s name was called.

///

He walked into the room Zayn entered feeling more confident than he has the entire time he’s been in New York. 

The room was set up in front of a large row of windows overlooking the opposite side of what he knows is Liberty Island, but a giant black spread separated between the windows. Large artificial lights were set up on a slightly elevated space. People were mostly sitting down behind the lights and the two cameras. Zayn was standing in the middle of the room with the lights shining down on him.

“Harry!” a short guy barely older than Harry himself called for him. He gestured to the stage Zayn was standing on and said, “Please stand over there and we can begin.” He waited until Harry made his way over, careful to not trip on the lip of the stage but he caught Zayn snicker into his shoulder as he watched his feet step over. “Alright, this is just a open video. No cuts. And we’re rolling.”

Harry had never been more at a loss. Whatever morsel of confidence he had walking in was gone. Acting wasn’t his forte, if not his worst talent. He just put it on his resume because Ben said it would open more doors. He’s honestly shit and he’s firing Ben.

Zayn was watching him carefully and Harry mirrored him. The only difference was Zayn smoldered and Harry panicked. 

The director called out as he watched Zayn and Harry stare at each other, “Okay you guys are going to kiss each other.”

Harry’s mouth dropped open and Zayn threw his head back and laughed.

Zayn said, “You’re joking.” But once the director simply raised his eyebrows at them and made a rather rude gesture, Zayn sobered up.

Harry’s dream was on the line and if he had to kiss Zayn to do that, well, he was certainly taking one for the team.

He stuck out his hand, feeling weird over just introducing himself, “I’m Harry.”

Zayn's tongue flicked out against his lips and he gripped his hand loosely. “I’m Zayn.”

Harry was jerked by his wrist, Zayn’s loose grip quickly changing to a burning brand around his bones. One of Zayn’s hand deftly cupped Harry’s neck and the other let go of his wrist to wrap around his hips. Harry felt like his blood was fizzing and there was cotton in his ears, like he’d been asleep for weeks and was finally waking up dazed. 

Zayn’s eyes trapped Harry in place and at every point they touched, from the top of their chests, Zayn holding Harry’s hips in place with his, the way Harry’s thighs felt the brush of Zayn’s belt. 

Harry’s breath caught in his throat and he licked his lips, watching Zayn’s eyes track the movement and not leaving. Harry didn’t really have to lean down because Zayn firmly guided Harry down to meet Zayn’s lips in a kiss.

Harry felt overwhelmed in sensations: the plushness of Zayn’s lips, his beard scraping against his top lip and chin with every lock of lips. Harry’s skin felt bristled and tingly. He’s never had a kiss so close and so deep. Harry’s slept with men and women and kissed them with nothing separating them, but this kiss felt stripped bare. He’s never been the most comfortable with strangers, but with Zayn he’s never felt more warm and secure in this moment. 

Harry’s lips went slick and his mind whirred because that was Zayn’s tongue wetting his lips this time and brushing past the seam until the kiss turned sloppy and wet. Zayn’s hands moved to capture his jaw in his hands and Harry moved his under Zayn’s arms, feeling cashmere scrape against his skin and Zayn’s jaw slide smoothly across his.

He forgot about the cameras and felt his hands drift under the sweater Zayn wore. The feel of sharp hipbones and smooth stretches of skin made him want to go deeper, feel what his skin felt like without clothes on. What it felt like with Zayn’s hips pressing Harry’s into a mattress and the heat of his shoulders holding him down. 

One of Zayn’s hands tangled in the curls at his shoulder and scratched behind his ear that had Harry nuzzling into it right before Zayn yanked hard. Harry broke the kiss quickly with a long drawn out moan coming from his mouth. 

Harry didn’t bother opening his eyes, already remembering where Zayn’s lips used to be and he was about to resume kissing when he heard an abrupt cough.

And like a light switch, Harry was able to breath and his eyes opened. Harry watched Zayn’s eyes languidly, his eyelashes whispering open. They watched Harry back and Harry could vaguely remember what it felt like waking up each day for six months like he lost himself over the ocean to New York. He’s never felt so alive in Zayn’s arms for ten minutes than he has the last six months. 

The director coughed again, “Well. Without a doubt the best I’ve seen all morning. How does it feel to have a first kiss with a random stranger?”

Harry felt Zayn’s hand wind down from his neck and one loop around Harry’s hips like he did when they first met earlier. 

Harry laughed in the small space between Zayn and himself. He asked, “Are you having another segment of ‘first’s’ with strangers?”

Zayn smiled, his eyes crinkling and his nose flaring out. “Don’t think we’re gonna be strangers for long, Harry.”

Harry smiled, feeling lighter than he has in months. He whispered to Zayn only, “I think you’re right.”

Harry ignored the boos and pens being thrown at them as Harry kissed Zayn again. And again. 

///

Months later, the “First Kiss” video debuted to be an outrageous success. Nearly 94 million people have watched it with smaller companies copying it at universities. 

The video featured 20 random strangers, all people moving up in the music or acting industry, sharing a kiss for the first time. Things like “but what happened after they kissed?” spread in the comments section of the video and increasingly, the attention brought to Zayn Malik, a rising 21-year old catwalk and editorial model, and Harry Styles, a 20-year old indie singer with catchy songs, seemed to skyrocket their careers.

Harry never booked another acting gig after that, feeling that the “First Kiss” was a dose of pure luck that it was him and Zayn that got paired together. Harry stuck to music (maybe even then writing a song “Kiss You” and having a music video featuring Zayn where he just kissed him a lot. It was a bit of a success. Mostly because Ben did not direct it) and Zayn booked many more modeling gigs and shoots, but soon after that video; people were requesting him for shoots. 

None of the kisses were staged of fake, but everyone speculated that because they were actors, it couldn’t be real. Harry wasn’t an actor. Neither was Zayn. 

Even when they fought over takeout, when Zayn couldn’t drop out of NY Fashion Week for Harry’s album drop in LA, when Harry cried for nights when Zayn’s grandfather died and he couldn’t leave tour to be with him until a break, even through all the ups and downs, the kisses were always real.


End file.
